This was a difficult chapter to write because so much delicate action had to happen in a short time that it couldn't be told from one person's point of view. In addition, Rose is so somber and events are turning serious that I had to throw in some comedy relief (forgive me!)

Miss Flossy,
My main problem in writing Mowett is that I can't write poetry, at all, and it's such a big part of his characterization.
I have to say that your last comment had me laughing and sparked an idea for the following scene. I'm going to post it in all italics just to remind anyone who might see it that it's not really part of the story.
It takes place the morning after she rejected Jack.

"Doctor, may I have a private word with you?"

Stephen looked up from his book to find Mrs. Stirling looking unusually pale and serious in the doorway of his cramped little office.

"Of course, though if it is a matter of a private medical consultation, I am certain that the captain will permit use of the Great Cabin."

"It is not a medical matter at all. The captain mentioned that the crew were gossiping about him and me. It didn't concern him much, and I know that onboard a ship that there is always talk among the fo'c'sle hands, but I am afraid that I have encouraged it somehow."

Stephen scratched his head. "Yes, I have heard a little of the talk. There appears to be a fair amount of wagering going on about who will be the man to ultimately gain your affections. I believe that the odds favored him last night after dinner."

She stared at him as if he were mad. "Gain my affections?" she repeated. "Doctor, do you mean to tell me that the men of this crew are betting that one of the officers will become my lover?"

"That is exactly what I am saying."

Dumbstruck, she sank into a chair, slowly shaking her head. Several times she blinked and shook her head over and over. Then, she laughed. "Good heavens! I can scarcely credit such an idea, but I trust that you are not gaming with me."

"I am not. It may amuse you to know that only three men placed their money on Mr. Howard, and all of them marines. In addition, only one man chose Mr. Allen as the likely lover."

"Mr. Allen!" she cried, laughing even harder. "My dear sir! You cannot be serious!"

"Indeed, I am completely serious, though I must say I am happy to see you are amused rather than offended, for this rises from the men's affection for their officers rather than any aspersion on your virtue."

(With apologies for silliness!)

Savannah

The passage proved to be otherwise uneventful, and late midwatch one dark Thursday night, thirty miles off the coast of Georgia, the Surprise had her rendezvous with the merchant schooner Grover. Pullings, was to be left in charge of the Surprise along with Allen, Howard, and all of the marines whom Mrs. Stirling privately detested. The crew was being rowed over to the schooner, so the lady wore her men's trousers and sweater in order to make the transition more easily. Her gown was packed in a carpetbag and sent over with the crew so she could change aboard in preparation for landing in Savannah.

Glum, pensive, and on edge, she stood waiting on deck for her turn to climb down into the boat. Stephen was slowly making his way down and having a difficult time of it for the open sea was not completely calm and the ship was rising and falling to a pronounced degree.

"Do not fret for that ship following," Mr. Pullings said to her by way of reassurance as they stood waiting. "You will be quite safe with the captain and the doctor, and we shall not let her by. If the Walrus comes near the shore, we'll have her, upon my honor. So, you must not fret."

A little smile just visible in the lamplight pierced her gloomy expression. "Thank you. It does ease my mind to hear you say that."

Finally, the doctor was settled although he had taken a bit of a ducking, and she went over the side next, with both Pullings and Mr. Allen giving her a hand. After the doctor's disgraceful performance, she seemed as nimble as a quick little monkey.

The merchant schooner was a small, dirty, poorly-run mess that did little to improve her mood, thus she kept to herself on the journey. The morning dawned fair inland, and dressed in her lavender frock and a pretty white shawl, she joined Jack and Stephen for their sojourn with tension and anxiety darkening her face. Before going ashore, she asked one of the purser's men to go to the local vintners to bring back several cases of wine as a present to the captain and the gunroom for their hospitality. Then, she was ready.

"I should think we will be back before dinner," she told Mr. Mowett, who was to stay and keep the schooner in readiness for their departure, with a dour look. "I would be in your debt if you could promise me to have us back onboard the Surprise in time for a nightcap before retiring, for I cannot bear the though of remaining on this schooner for an instant longer than necessary."

The lady's remark amused him, for none of the men would remark on the sad state of any other vessel, even one as wholly decrepit as the Grover. "No doubt, ma'am, you may count on me!" he assured her.

The morning clamor on the docks was beginning to die down a bit when they went ashore. Casually, they strolled and Mrs. Stirling told them, "We should engage a dog-cart at quay's end."

"That is easily done," said Jack. Tall and imposing even without his uniform, he engaged a dog-cart and soon they were settled in the rough cart and the pony was pulling them through the streets at a smart clip.

Their first stop was the churchyard, and Stephen, who was Roman Catholic, only followed them in because he had been charged in protecting the lady's life. The yard was old and overgrown a bit, but a massive magnolia tree was in bloom, perfuming the quiet air with some manner of divinity. Both men trailed behind and left the lady some privacy as she came to the side of an old grave. They saw the stone

Lily Caruthers Flint

and next to it, a much newer and fresher grave

Captain John Flint

For her part, Mrs. Stirling knelt by her parents' graves for no more than ten minutes. When she came over to them, though, her eyes were damp and a serene grace possessed her.

"Do you see that birdhouse?" she asked, pointing to a small wooden object above in the branches of the venerable magnolia. "My father made that and hung it there when my mother was buried. She was uncommonly fond of the little birds."

Both Jack and Stephen looked up. It may have once been blue, but rain and weather had rendered it nondescript over the years so that it was now some sort of melancholy gray, like much of the lady's mood.

"Jack," she said quietly to the captain. "I beg of you to take that birdhouse down for me. I shall take it with me."

"My pleasure." He took off his coat, hat, and sword before scaling the tree. It was easy, he found, and within a few minutes, he had retrieved the birdhouse and was back on the ground. Upon returning it to her, he found himself the recipient of her trembling smile of gratitude.

No other word was spoken until they were back in the dog-cart. Stephen insisted on carrying the birdhouse, and she was reluctant until he promised to carry it with great care. Then, in time for luncheon, the dog-cart took them back down into the city to the Cold Mariner Inn.

In truth, the place was less worrisome than either Jack or Stephen had expected, and upon entering, the three of them were lead into a private dining room for their luncheon. Mr. Terayen, the proprietor, came in presently to attend to his well-to-do guests. He was a grizzled, wiry little man, very darkly tanned, looking like a tough bit of gristle. Only a few minutes had passed before he recognized the woman and stood gawping at her.

"You know me, then?" she asked of him.

"Laws, yes, Miss Rose. I should know the like of you anywhere. But why have ye come, lass?" Fear and anxiety showed clearly on his face.

She glanced at Jack and Stephen with a frown. "My father wrote a letter to me just before he died. Shortly after that, some men tried to murder me in my sleep."

"Aye and I don't doubt that." He shook his head slowly. "Miss, ye're in terrible danger.

"What do you mean?" asked Jack.

"Forgive me, sir, for I ain't what I used to be, but I still hear a bit o' gossip here and there. My old mates sometimes come in and jaw a bit over a mug."

"For God's sake, speak, man!"

"There's five thousand pounds offered to see you out of the way."

"Five thousand pounds!" Stephen cried. "To have her killed, you mean."

"Yes, sir." The old man's anxiety was quite palpable.

"Say what you know, and do so quickly," Jack growled, looking at the little fellow with a menacing glower.

"I only heard the gossip, sir. I'm an honest man now, but I hear a bit of this and that. I was right worried about Miss Rose, y'see. I served with Flint thirty years, sir, and I were afeared of him in life and I'm just as afeared of him in death. He wouldn't want his girl harmed."

"Who sails the Walrus now?" the captain demanded.

"I don't rightly know, sir. The hands, mayhaps, as they would've elected a new captain when Flint left the ship."

"I ask because she has trailed us all the way here from England."

The old man muttered a vile oath. "You should not have come, miss."

Having lost her appetite and most of the color in her face, the lady sat as one turned to stone listening as Jack and Stephen questioned the man. There was not much more that he knew, and the four of them finally sat in silence. "We must return to the ship right away," was what she eventually said. "But I must visit with Mrs. Terayen first, if I may."

Terayen sent her upstairs to see his wife whose both feet had been amputated, leaving her unable to get around very well. When she had gone, Terayen asked the two men, "Are you acquainted with that lass's man?"

"I believe he is referring to her husband."

"I am perfectly aware to whom he is referring, Stephen."

"I wondered what type of man that lass would take. Fire and sweetness she had from her mother, and Lord knows what from her father."

"What was Mrs. Flint like?" asked Stephen.

"A right strong sea-bird, or so she turned out to be. Wouldn't have thought it to look at her. A lady, she was, fine as silk and gentle of voice. Fiery like all hell, though, and nerves like a man. Fourteen years, old Flint took no other woman. Fourteen years, matey. Fourteen years asea, and he took not one other woman in that time. He kept his wife aboard, and the pair of them went at it every night."

"Do you mean to say that Captain and Mrs. Flint had marital relations every night?" asked Stephen with professional interest.

"Three times a week, three times a day, depending on the mood. Of course, there was a lull when Mrs. Lily was ill, and of course, there was many weeks lull when Miss Rose came, but the truth is that they wore each other out."

"Extraordinary," Stephen remarked.

"I wondered if ye served with Miss Rose's man, for I was wondering if the young miss had it in her. I only knew her as a lass, you see."

Stephen couldn't help laughing both at Jack's black frown and the absurdity of the situation. The vile old pirate may have claimed to be an honest man, but no amount of time ashore could remove his uncouth wickedness.

Clutching a bundle wrapped in waxed brown paper and tied with twine, Rose Flint Stirling returned to the parlor looking rather tired and sad. "Jack, Stephen," she said quietly. "I am ready to go." She allowed Jack to carry her bundle and with Stephen still holding the silly little birdhouse, they went straight back to the docks without any mishap. True to his word, Mowett had everything ready, and they got underway as soon as the tide was with them.

The journey upon the Grover was mercifully short. As soon as they were aboard the Surprise, with birdhouse and brown paper package in hand, Jack and Stephen went down to the Great Cabin with her.